Talking to You, Talking to Me

The angelic-voiced L.A. folk-rock revivalists add versatility and personality to their sound.

The Watson Twins' voices have been their greatest asset and their greatest liability. Their sisterly harmonies, so tight and effortless they seemingly could only be the product of twins, have taken them far-- most notably landing them a job adding 1970s country window dressing to Jenny Lewis' Rabbit Fur Coat. Those voices also got them a deal at Vanguard Records and a modest following well outside of Los Angeles. On the other hand, their first EP and debut LP highlighted those voices primarily by stripping everything else away, leaving their vocals to anchor subpar songs, and an anonymous musical backdrop that placed them squarely in an L.A. folk-rock revival alongside far less agile groups like the Chapin Sisters, Biirdie, and the Winter Flowers.

The Twins' second full-length-- Talking to You, Talking to Me-- shows they have more reach and personality than most of their contemporaries, not by proving them more capable singers but by amping up their accompaniment. In fact there are actually fewer showboating harmonies on this record and a greater reliance on solo singing. Typically, one of the Twins takes the lead, and the other either provides backing oohs and aahs or drops in to emphasize certain phrases. It's a crafty trick that makes their lyrics sound a bit more barbed than they actually are. That's how they approach "Devil in You", with one of them singing the verses and the other joining in on the chorus to give the lyrics more bite: "Well, the devil in you tried to tell me what to do/ I don't think so." There are, of course, still some sleepy moments that are more pretty than pointed: "Snow Canyons" begins softly, adding a few instruments but never really going anywhere, and "Tell Me Why" is perhaps the tweest thing the sisters have ever recorded.

Perhaps the Twins got bored with the same old canyon-rock sound, or perhaps the touring for Fire Songs transformed their makeshift band into a tight unit, or perhaps they realized they could never distinguish themselves by blending in, but on Talking to You they have given their backing musicians freer rein with the arrangements, essentially placing equal emphasis on vocals and music. That much is evident from the opener, "Modern Man", which trips along on a prominent beat that makes the most of a closed high hat. The percussive organ strikes lend "Harpeth River" its Portisheadiness, but the organ really gets going on "Midnight", dogging the vocal melody, spackling the spaces in the verses, and finally tearing the song down with a lengthy solo. The band amplifies these songs not just sonically but thematically, bolstering the walking-on-a-wire sensibility of slower numbers like "Forever Me" and "U N Me". In general, Talking to You sounds like an album that is gradually divorcing itself from history and geography, as the Twins learn to build on that West Coast sound to create something unique and personal. They're not there yet, but give them another tour.